Vampires of Paris
by TimeLordOfGallifrey
Summary: There's nothing quite like the head-clashing bonding of two geniuses flung back in time. The Doctor and Clara join forces with Sherlock and John and, unexpectedly, the Musketeers of 17th century Paris. Plagued with monsters of their own and the squabble over who gets to court Clara, the eight of them must figure out who or what is terrorising the streets of Paris and return home.
1. Chapter 1

The usual disclaimer applies. Characters owned by someone else are not ours.

I co-wrote this story with the fabulous fallentimelord so aim your reviews her way too!

This chapter was mine. The next will be hers but then it's a mish mash of wibbly wobbly writey stuff.

Please drop us a review and let us know how it is!

Enjoy.

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><p>"Yeah but why?" Clara asked spinning around in one of the new chairs, the ones that looked as though they were better suited to Conan Doyle's library than a spaceship.<p>

"Is that my chair?" The Doctor asked hopping up the steps to the central unit.

"Maybe." Clara said blankly, she tried to hold her poker face but couldn't prevent the little smirk that crawled it's way to the corners of her mouth, "That's not the point." she said to stop herself grinning like a kid.

"Oh? And what is the point?" Twelve asked fiddling with the knobs and dials.

"Him." Clara said simply with a suggestive nod of the head.

"Your boyfriend?" The Doctor raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "We're not taking Sammy -"

"Danny."

"We're not taking Danny along for the ride."

"I wasn't talking about Danny. And he's not my boyfriend!" she added hastily, though her tone of voice said otherwise.

"As you wish. We're still not taking Sa- Danny." he paused with a look that said "Congratulate me. I got it right." but received nothing but raised eyebrows from the petite brunette in the old leather chair, "Not taking Danny along."

"Still not who I was talking about." Clara hopped up of the chair and down the steps.

"Who were you talking about then?" he asked huskily.

"You know…" she flipped up the rounded collar of her shirt and clomped around for a moment.

"Oh." he got it, "No." he shook his head, "We're not revealing ourselves to them. Imagine what would happen." he said, mind racing with possibilities.

"What harm would it do?"

"A lot."

"But -"

"Nope. Nooo. Nein. Niet. Nej. Dili."

"Dili?" Clara rose an eyebrow, "So we're speaking what exactly now?" she asked, arms crossed in front of her. Though the T.A.R.D.I.S could translate, it didn't specify which language was being translated to English.

"Cebuano." Twelve replied.

"And whe -" Clara was cut of by the sudden lurch of the time machine.

"Hold on!" The Doctor grinned as they hurtled through the vortex.

"Where are we going?" Clara exclaimed, hanging onto the outer rail.

"No idea!"

"What?!"

"This wasn't me."

"But if it wasn't you then who was it?"

"That's what we're about to find out!" The Doctor grinned as the time machine came to a shuddering halt.

Clara mumbled something unintelligible and straightened out her swallow-print dress as the doctor swung the hanging screen around and peered distrustfully at it.

"What is it?" Clara broke the deathly silence.

"Graveyard."

"What's so bad about that?" she asked noting the darkening tone in his voice.

"Nothing. Nothing." The Doctor said dismissing the heart wrenching memories of the Ponds and River, instead choosing to focus on pulling his coat on, grabbing his screwdriver and bounding out through the door.

"Wait!" Clara called running after him, "Is it safe?"

He was stood stock still.

Closing in on the phone box was a semicircle of eerily elegant statues. Wings resting calmly behind them with stone hands held millimeters in front of their faces. Hands held up, not in fear, not in a cowering gesture, but in malice. Hands that hid a devilish grin and wicked stone eyes. Hands that stopped those stone eyes from looking into a matching pair and ending the point of both their existences at once. An angelic staring contest - an eternal staring contest.

"Clara." The Doctor said, voice careful and attempting to be calm, "Whatever you do. Don't come outside."

"Too late." Clara said, eyes sliding from statue to statue, "Are they… are they supposed to be like that."

"Yes. Well. No. It depends how you look at it really." The Doctor rambled, "Clara, you have to do exactly as I say." he said without looking back at her, eyes already beginning to sting slightly from the cool air on his corneas.

"And what's that?"

"Don't blink."

"Not blinking." she stated, "Why can't I blink?"

"Don't look into their eyes and don't blink. You do and you're lost forever."

"Lost for…" she trailed off, "What do they do?"

"I'll explain when we have a tad more time on our hands."

"Fine. What do we do?"

The angels were unmoving in their malicious approach, yet Clara could feel her eyes prickling and the twelfth doctor could too.

"Go back inside," he began as Clara backed towards the doors. She walked into the hard wooden corner and, without meaning to. Blinked. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder for the smallest second but when he looked back the angels were closer. Hands like talons, outstretched and reaching. Some of their faces bore vicious, snarling mouths while others seemed to be simply smiling - but the smiles were far from friendly.

"Doctor!" Clara squeaked, "More behind us!" Her eyes were wide open and staring towards the angels that approached from behind. They were close, closer than one would like. The Doctor's eyes were also wide open, though what could be read in his eyes was not fear but wholehearted determination. He stared down the reaching stone statues, almost daring them to move. Slowly and carefully, his hand moved to the inside pocket of his coat and gently eased the screwdriver out of it's home. Aiming it over his shoulder he managed to direct it towards the control panel, not once removing his eyes from the angels. Clara jumped in shock as the T.A.R.D.I.S. began to whir and whine. Bulb flashing. Box fading. Soon it was gone. Leaving behind it a blank emptiness.

"Doctor!" Clara sounded furious, the schoolteacher tone came out loud and harsh as if she were about to give the old traveller a detention.

"You can blink now Clara." Twelve said calmly as he slipped the screwdriver back into it's sleeve, tip no longer glowing a hopeful green.

"But the statues!" she spun around, eventually giving into the temptation to blink. When she opened her eyes she understood.

The angel's were, by no means, gone. Simply stood in a wide circle, locked in an endless staring contest with stone eyes wide open, arms outstretched and snarling mouths with hideous fangs.

"They're not moving." she said as the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding was released.

"No they're not." The Doctor said triumphantly, "Weeping Angels. One of the cleverest hunters alive."

"Not clever enough though, eh?" Clara jokingly elbowed him in the side.

"This happened before. I'm just glad the old girl remembered what to do." The Doctor said remembering his brief encounter with Sally Sparrow, "Martha and I. We were sent back to 1969."

"So, what? They send people back in time?" Clara asked wondering whether or not she should breach the Martha subject.

"They can't move if they're being observed, but when they're not they're fast as lightning. No one knows what an angel looks like when it's not made of stone." The Doctor explained, "I've never once managed to catch one of the little devils off guard." he said regretfully, "But the trick with the angels is to not let them touch you. They touch you and they send you back to who knows when. So long as you don't blink, you're safe." he told her as they tensely made their way out of the circle.

"Why can't you just wink though?" Clara asked, "Close one eye, let the other rest, open both eyes briefly then close the first eye."

"Try as you might, sooner or later you will still blink. Your winking will get faster and faster. Adrenaline, you see. And, accidentally. You'll blink when in reality you meant to wink.

"Oh. What about mirrored glasses?" she asked before realising the flaw in that plan, "You still can't turn your back."

"Right you are Clara. No. The best way is to trick them into looking at eachother."

"But are they always angels? Or could say… the lion statues outside Buckingham Palace be some. Or what about Napoleon in Leicester Square?"

"I wouldn't put it past those lions though." he said whilst shaking his head in an unsure no.

There was far too much residual time energy in the cemetery to be able to land the phone box again - especially unpiloted. Unanimously, they wove their way through the graves and leaning tombstones, towards a spot outwith the the confines of concrete walls and underground caverns of corpses, where they could summon the T.A.R.D.I.S. once more. A shiver worked it's tingling way down Clara's spine. She glanced over her shoulder and froze at the sight that greeted her, "Doctor?" she called back nervously, grasping at the thin air behind her. She could hear the bitterness in his voice as his heart sank with an "Oh." The wrought iron gate of the cemetery creaked open, yet neither paid it much heed as all their attention was focused on the angel in front of them.

"No… no no no no no…" The Doctor muttered hatefully. The strays. The stragglers. How he hated the left-behind angels. "Don't worry Cl -" he was cut off part way through saying her name as he vanished into time.

"Doctor?" Clara stupidly spun around, the adrenaline coursing through her prevented logical thinking from taking hold. Within a matter of moments she too was flung into the far off reaches of time.


	2. Chapter 2

And here it is guys. Chapter two written by my fabulous friend **fallentimelord. **Aim your reviews towards her, after all, I had nothing to do with this chapter. The next one will be up in due time. Enjoy and please review.

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><p>He had been obsessed. For months, he had searched for the mysterious Doctor. The great Sherlock Holmes was bored. The Doctor was his distraction. Sherlock had been getting no where with the Moriarty case when Lestrade had come to him with 20 missing person cases. No traces, no bodies, poof. It was as if the people vanished into thin air. There were a few similarities between the cases. The last known locations of all the missing people were in a graveyard. Then there were the angels. After each case the angel statues in that graveyard had moved. The other strange thing was that in every case an old blue police telephone box was seen nearby, but was gone a couple of hours after.<p>

A couple of days after Sherlock took the case he sent John to go investigate the last graveyard a person went missing in, but instead of finding clues he witnessed the strangest thing. The blue box was sitting just inside the entrance to the graveyard. Half an hour later, John burst into the living room, gasping for breath.

"John?" Sherlock said standing up out of his chair.

"The… Blue….. box" John gasped. Sherlock's eyes widened

"What about the blue box?!" Sherlock said almost screaming. John was still doubled over gasping for breath

"It ….disappeared" At this Sherlock burst out laughing

"Disappeared John! Ha! You must be having delusions again." As John flopped down on his chair he started to explain his story

"Look Sherlock. I am not crazy, or delusional. I. Saw. It. I had just entered the graveyard when I saw it. It was just sitting there, abandoned. So naturally I go up to it to get a better look, when I hear voices coming from behind me." John looked sceptically up at Sherlock who had his hand together, pressed under his chin. "So I dived to the bush next to me. From there I heard an old mans voice and a womans voice."

"How old was she?" Questioned Sherlock

"What?" Asked a very puzzled John

. "How old did she sound, John? It's a simple enough question" Asked a little agitated Sherlock

"Early twenties, I would say but I don't see how that matters." Said John

"Hmm… Carry on." Said Sherlock looking up expectantly at John.

"So, I see these two people walk into this blue box, and I swear to god, Sherlock. It was bigger on the inside." Said John looking shocked as if he were seeing it again for the first time

"Or smaller on the outside. Depending on which way you look at it." Said Sherlock

"Sherlock!" Yelled John

"what!" Said Sherlock jumping a little. "Wait….. Say that again" Sherlock said standing up and walking over to John.

"Wait?" Said John, confused

"NO! The other thing" Sherlock yelled annoyed.

"It was bigger on the inside." Said John slowly and clearly.

"But that's not possible." accused Sherlock "How is tha-"

"Can please finish my story before you go all, mid palacey on me." interrupted John.

"Yes. Sure. Continue." Sherlock spoke in a dazed voice before returning to his casual position of hands under the chin.

"So after I see them go into the box, they shut the door and I hear this mechanical wheezing sound. And when I get out from behind the bush the box is gone." John finished.

"Hmm…."

"Oh what is it, Sherlock. I've finished, you can show off now." Said John exasperated.

"Well, if the Doctor was there then that means he must be investigating these disappearances too. Which means that he will be at the next graveyard."

"Sorry. What?" Said John.

"You'll understand later. For now go home to Mary and get some sleep. She is 4 months pregnant after all." Sherlock said shooing John.

"But what about the Doct-" Sherlock cut him off

"I'll text you, bye!" Sherlock said as he swiftly shoved John out the door.

Not two days later was John interrupted from a peaceful afternoon with his wife with a text from Sherlock

_Come now. New missing Person. The game is on._

So at that John kissed his beautiful wife good-bye and grabbed his coat.

Sherlock was already waiting outside 221B when John arrived.

"You ready, John" Questioned Sherlock

"As ready as I will ever be." Answered John. The two marched off, in perfect unison.

"So where exactly are we going?" Asked John

"Oh, not far. Just around the corner" Replied Sherlock from ear to ear.

"I really hate you sometimes." Said a slightly cross John.

As they arrived at the graveyard, John could already tell something wasn't quite right.

"John, stay close." Whispered Sherlock. As the two silently crept along, the eery silence was interrupted by a mechanical wheezing sound.

"That's the noise!" John whispered furiously. But Sherlock remained silent.

The sound wasn't close but still audible.

"If in doubt, go toward almost certain danger." Whispered Sherlock

"That doesn't even make any sense." Said John. As the pair crept along the noise got louder until it suddenly came to a stop. Sherlock held up a hand and the stopped dead in their tracks. Up ahead, about 100 metres away, stood the bright blue police box and a relieved looking Doctor. Sherlock and John could just make out their conversation

"Doctor?" the girl called back nervously, grasping at the thin air behind her.

"Oh." The Doctor said with a terrified gasp.

"No… no no no no no…" The Doctor muttered hatefully.

"Don't worry Cl -" he was cut off part way through saying her name as he vanished into thin air. "Doctor?" The girl stupidly spun around, within a matter of moments she too was gone. For once Sherlock looked just as confused as John. But, that confused soon turned to fear as they notice the scowling face and bared teeth of the angel formally ten metres away now ten feet away. "John. Run." Sherlock said his voice quivering. John started to back away. He only shut his eyes for a split second. But when he opened them again, Sherlock was gone, and the Angel was standing a fingertip away from him. The next thing he next he was being flung back and forth in complete blackness. The sensation of falling is quite possible one of the worst feelings in the world, and that was how John felt.


	3. Chapter 3

"-ara." The Doctor finished his sentence, though, much to both his delight and dismay, Clara was not there to hear it. He cursed himself for not thinking to search the rest of the graveyard for laggers, for slackers, for the left behind angels.

His mind had not wandered far when Clara appeared with a disgruntled yelp behind him. Before he could even open his mouth her tiny arms squeezed him tight, "I thought… I don't know what I thought... Where and when are we?" she asked once the adrenaline had settled down and her brain had turned itself back on.

"Not the present." The Doctor offered looking around, grinning when he caught sight of the look on the schoolteacher's face.

"Then where are w-" Clara's speech was interrupted by a sudden crashing sound, and a heavy weight suddenly forcing her to the ground.

"Oh not you too." The Doctor huffed, sagging his shoulders like a stroppy seven-year old.

Sherlock picked himself up off the girl and dusted off his long dark coat. He turned to face the Doctor, "You're him." He said, eyes dancing analytically over the man and the girl.

"That depends on who you think I am." Twelve said calmly as he took in the curly haired man "And what do you think you're doing, landing on Clara like that. She's not that big you know."

"157 centimetres. Yes. I'd noticed." Sherlock said, voice never faltering from its analysing monotone. He stared at the older man but could for not no thoughts that fit. When you eliminate the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. The one he'd had John track. The old man and the girl. "The nameless Doctor."

"I'm not nameless, The Doctor's a name."

"Doctor's a title."

"For that one maybe." The Doctor said jerking his head in John's direction as Clara began to complain.

"Ow.." she moaned, rubbing her head.

"I am so sorry, miss. Can I help you?" Asked John extending his hand to help her up, which she graciously took.

"Thanks for the help." Clara said.

"Sorry but what's your name?" She questioned again

"Oh sorry I'm John Watson. It's a pleasure to meet you" John said smiling.

"Time for pleasantries later John." Sherlock said glancing over at the two of them

"That's Sherlock Holmes?" Said Clara. "I thought he was taller."

"Clara, you think everyone's taller than they turn out to be. It's a side effect of being short." The Doctor said with a nod, at this Clara turned to him and smacked him hard on the shoulder. "Thank you for that Miss Oswald. But yes. That, supposedly, is Mr Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson."

"Wait where are we?" Said John with a very confused look on his face.

"We've time travelled, John." said Sherlock with an unamused look of confusion upon his face, "I don't know how…" he muttered under his breath.

"Time travel! Wait what?!" John practically screamed.

"Yes Doctor John Watson." Twelve stuck his hands in his pockets, flamboyantly showing off the red lining of his new coat, "Time travel."

"Doctor, would you please explain to this goldfish why and how we got here" Sherlock said ruffling his hair slightly. John did a double take between the Doctor and Sherlock

"Goldfish!" He said indignantly before the Doctor interrupted him.

"You see the angels, the Weeping Angels, the angels from the graveyards." The Doctor began, ignoring John's protests, "They're not statues. Nope. Aliens." he explained, talking with his hands as much as his voice, Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but The Doctor soon cut him off with his waffled explanation, "They feed off time energy, see. They send you back in time rather than kill you, it's the passage through the vortex that leaves behind residual time energy. Their food. In some ways it's almost crueller than death, their victims usually have no idea what to expect and never make it back to their own time. I've encountered them before and made it back, of course, but not without help from some DVDs."

"The angels…" Sherlock reminded him.

"They're faster than you could possibly imagine. Faster than a speeding bullet. Like lightning. Around them you absolutely cannot blink. Blink and you're dead. Don't look in their eyes, don't look away and don't blink. One touch and you're sent back. Never to see your time again!" he finished with a loud clap of his hands, looking around expectantly, hoping they'd understood. Clara turned to John and whispered in his ear "Sorry about him. He's a bit of a show off." John stifled a snigger

"Just you wait and see that psychopathy in action" John whispered back.

"Show off?" The Doctor looked like an offended owl.

"Not psychopath, John. A high functioning sociopath." Sherlock said not even turning

to look at him. Clara and John were giggling now.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow and turned on his heel, cantering off towards the top of

the grassy slope they'd found themselves on.

"Ooh!" Clara exclaimed "That's me got to dash." She said as she rushed off after the Doctor

"Ooh!" The Doctor grinned, "Now this is new. Paris! 16th...no." he shook his head, "17th, aye. That's the one. 17th century."

"Wait. We're in 17th century Paris?" Said Clara excitedly as she caught up with twelve.

"That explains the smell." Sherlock remarked as he too joined them at the top of the hill, hands stuffed in his pockets as he gazed across the city that sprawled out beneath them.

"Freeze where you are." Said a gruff, deep voice behind them.

"Turn around slowly with your arms in the air." Said a much smoother, more seductive

voice.

"Oh and drop your weapons." the deep voiced man added on.

"Not carrying any." The Doctor said raising his hands and turning around, "Well I never." he grinned.

"Well you never what?" asked Clara following suit.

"Musketeers." Twelve grinned like Eleven in a toy shop.

"As in the three musketeers, who roamed the land, getting drunk and killing the evil guys soldiers!" Gasped Clara, as she randomly waved her hands around. The smooth voiced musketeer turned to the huge muscled one next to him.

"What is she doing?" He asked quietly.

"Perhaps she is summoning the devil." The huge, giant of a man said back in a hushed tone.

"She's… what do they call it in her time? Fangirling?" The Doctor said with a shrug.

"OH MY GOD!" Clara screamed. "It really is you!" She said wafting her hands around her face. "I mean if you really are them then you must Athos" She said pointing at the deep voice man with his sword still pointed at her voice. "You must me Aramis" She said pointing next at the man with the soft, seductive voice. "you must be Porthos" POinting at the half giant half man, man. "And you." She said, her finger finally resting on the scrawny young man at the end of the line. "You're D'Artagnan. The lovable rogue who fought all three musketeers in one day!" She said her breathing short and excited.

"Lovable rogue, 'ey" Said D'Artagnan with an impish grin on his face and he leant on his sword giving Clara a wink as he did so.

"Clara!" Screamed twelve

"What?!" She said snapping out of her day-dream

"No flirting. You already have a boyfriend." He said sternly.

"I was not flirting!" She said indignantly crossing her arms

"You're not cheating on Sammy."

"Danny."

"You're still not cheating on Danny."

"The musketeers eh?" Sherlock had stayed to the back of the crowd, analysing everything. Though he couldn't quite understand the science behind the angel statues he could clearly see that Clara, a schoolteacher in her twenties with a crush on someone - presumably a fellow teacher - was completely at ease with time travel. So she'd travelled with the man for a considerable amount of time. Enough to feel comfortable around him. She knew exactly who each musketeer was, so chances were she'd read about them as a child - not been taught about them in school - but she remembered all their names. Still clinging onto childhood memories. Something must have happened in her life, something that would make sure all those memories of stories being read stayed fresh. The loss of a friend, possible. But more likely a parent, one who had told her the stories and who had died before she was an adult. The Doctor on the other hand. Sherlock was faced with a bitterly blank wall, even the man's clothes gave nothing away about the time period he came from, if he even came from the time he was wearing.

"Okay. So if I have got this right. we have SOMEHOW travelled back in time with the mysterious Doctor and met the three musketeers" John said stepping forward.

"I think you have miscounted dwarf man." Said Porthos "There is four of us" He said smirking as

"In you stor-" John was abruptly interrupted by the Doctor shoving his hand over his mouth.

"Sorry about that." Said the Doctor smoothly "This ones a bit." He stopped and covered Johns ears "mentally challenged" He said quietly whilst nodding, as he released his hands from Johns ears. And the musketeers seemed to understand.

"So anyway, who are you?" Asked D'Artagnan.

"Detective." The two geniuses said in unison. Clara and John sniggered a bit at this.

"The lady in blue is my…. my something… my Clara. Not my Clara. Not a random Clara. That's Clara."

"I'm his carer" Said Clara smiling.

"She cares so I don't have to." Twelve quoted himself.

"Sherlock Holmes. Consulting detective. John Watson. Army doctor and my blogger." Sherlock said shaking Athos' hand.

"What on earth is a blogger?" Asked Aramis.

"Nothing that concerns this century." The Doctor glanced at Sherlock with frowning eyebrows.

"He basically goes around showing off to get attention, and I'm there so he can insult me and look tall" Explained as slightly bored job, as if he had said those words thousands of times before.

"I don't show off." Sherlock muttered, "I merely state facts." he said eyes drifting from Musketeer to Musketeer. He knew the story, but not well. The one leaning against his sword was clearly the newest member, the way he glanced about at the elder soldiers - seeking approval and acceptance almost instinctively. He was their equal yet the great detective could still see that D'Artagnan still felt like the lamb of the group. Aramis clearly fancied himself a ladies man whereas Athos tried to keep himself hidden behind the shield of his leathers. He was the one who stood like a soldier and a leader. Chances were it hadn't been vocalised yet Sherlock could still see the respect for Athos that vibrated off the other men. He looked to Porthos. Poor but determined, made a name for himself, became a musketeer through skill, probably left his path behind to do so. He turned to Athos again, "We need somewhere to stay. Preferably with four separate rooms. Do what you can."

"I'm not doing anything until you clearly state why you are all here." Athos replied.

"We came to help." The Doctor said, taking a wild swing, "I heard you'd been having a bit of trouble, we came to see what we could do." Fortunately, his swing was not too far off.

Athos turned to the youngest member, "Go see what your lady friend can do." The slightest hint of a blush teased at D'Artagnan's cheeks as he nodded, stowed his sword and jogged swiftly down to the town below. Their original purpose for being on the hill had long since been abandoned and, what with the arrival of these newcomers, they had to prioritize. Chances were the girl was dead before they'd found out she was missing.

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><p>Cowritten with my fabulous friend. Again, I hope you enjoy it and please do review.<p>

(As usual, bbc characters aren't ours)


	4. Chapter 4

Co-written with my wonderful friend.

Please leave a review and tell us what you think.

Without further ado...

Enjoy!

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><p>"Doctor?" Clara spoke as she sauntered along, following the musketeers.<p>

"Yes, Clara" Said the Doctor partially lost in thought.

"Where's the T.A.R.D.I.S?" She asked inquisitively

"I sent her off. Don't worry. The old girl will find us eventually." He replied

"Really?!" Clara said as her whole face lit up.

"Yes. No. Maybe. Possibly. I'll sort it out somehow, don't you worry." He said sounding more and more unsure with each syllable.

Meanwhile, John and Sherlock were trailing at the back of the group. Sherlock was scowling and John was looking infuriated

"Sherlock, it's really quite simple. I don't understand why you are getting so fussed up"

"It's a matter of principle, John. If I give in now, I'll never get any answers"

"That's not what I meant." Said John, looking at Sherlock, who looked back utterly lost

"I found the books, Sherlock. And your web history" Said John, and at last Sherlock understood.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said lifting his nose to the air and flamboyantly marching ahead.

"I guess I'm just disappointed Sherlock" Said John shaking his head, "I mean for gods sake man you were my bloody best man! I can't believe that when I tell you to go learn about the universe you call it off as 'useless' but when Mr. Fancy pants comes along it's suddenly the universe is ever so important." Said John storming off.

"Well it wasn't important until now, was it? And the chances of this happening are ridiculously low, I opted to conserve my memory for more important things." Sherlock said dryly.

"So the Doctor is more important than me then…. Is that what you are saying?!"

"Watson you sound like you're five. You are both of different importance." Holmes declared, "I need my blogger just as much as I need to understand this case."

"You know what, Sherlock. Piss off. You are seriously irritating me at the moment and I need you to leave me alone before I break your nose." Said John speaking through gritted teeth.

"I'm going to back and try calm things down before one of them ends up murdering the other one." Clara said quickly to the Doctor who nodded and struck up a hearty conversation with Porthos, the jolly Musketeer.

"By blogger I meant… I meant friend Watson." Sherlock muttered irritably after a moments thought.

"Things getting heated in the back are they?" Clara asked, pausing in her stride to hang back with the other doctor as Sherlock awkwardly quickened his pace, "He's not so good with emotions, is he?"

"No. He is honestly the worst person you could ever have a conversation with about anything even remotely deep." Said a fuming John as he came into stride with her.

Sherlock stormed past as John stared daggers at his back.

"So John what do you work as?" Said Clara trying to strike up a conversation.

"Former Army Doctor. Now as you may have heard _Professional Blogger" _He said being

extremely sarcastic on the last two words.

"What do you work as Clara?" Asked John just trying to be polite.

"English teacher." She said proudly. "I know it's geeky but it's the best job I've ever had." She said before adding in a whispered voice "And the only ." She gave a small giggle and John couldn't help but feel the corner of his mouth twitch up.

"So John who's the lucky lady?" Said Clara sweetly

"What?" He snapped

"Well you're obviously married."

"How did you know?"

"Well there's the fact that you are wearing a wedding ring." She said pointing to the

golden ring on his finger. However, their little conversation was interrupted by another pair arguing in front.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter whether the Earth goes around the sun or not?"

The Doctor seemed positively outraged and one of the hairy caterpillars above his eyes arched questioningly, "It's basic physics!"

"It's an irrelevant fact that -"

"It's far from irrelevant."

"It won't help me with my work."

"Then your work… your work has issues sir!" The Doctor jabbed Sherlock in the chest with his sonic.

"You're personifying a job."

"I'm personifying a job." The Doctor imitated, waving his arms about angrily, "You thought the sun revolved around the Earth. They haven't thought that for hundreds of years! Oh, and by the way, the Earth isn't flat either. In case you were still stuck in that bubble."

"I am perfectly aware of the shape of the Earth."

"Oh he's perfectly aware of the shape of the Earth. You hear that Clara. He's perfectly aware of the shape of the Earth." The Doctor said spinning around, resuming his rant before the girl had the chance to respond, "The great Sherlock Holmes everybody."

Sherlock scowled at the ridicule, "Coming from a man too many painful memories to count. Coming from the child in an old man's body. At least I know who I am."

"I know who I am. I'm the Doctor. A time traveller. And maybe I'm not as alone as I thought I was but I am happy with my time travelling blue box. Thank you very much. And what's the point of being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes?" he said remembering his fourth face.

"You have childhood to be childish."

"But I guess you never were."

Sherlock frowned, "My childhood is of no concern. What we should be focusing on is getting home."

"What we have to focus on is what is terrorising Paris."

"Who says something's terrorising Paris?"

"Look at their faces. What were they doing up here in the first place? It's a bit out of the way."

"Oh God it's one of my nightmare!" Said John in a mocking manner. And when Twelve and Sherlock turned to him with confused faces

"There's two of him!" He said, and the four burst out in contagious laughter as they followed the Musketeers to wherever they were taking them.

D'Artagnan scampered back to his brothers and their new companions.

"I have found rooms for you all." he declared, deciding not to mention that it wasn't definite, "But you must explain what you're doing here."

"D'Artagnan is right." Athos said as they walked down the cobbled road towards his favoured tavern. "Explain over a drink."

Just then, a shrill scream filled the air bustling air, stopping everything in its tracks. Instinct forced them all to run towards the site of the yell and the sight that greeted them was not a pleasant one. Petty bickering was lost in the past as they ran forwards to inspect the body.


End file.
